


Irreparable

by ReticentGrace



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Earth, Angels, Angst, Dark, Desperation, Drug Use, Fallen Angels, God's A+ Parenting, Hurt No Comfort, Internal Monologue, Loneliness, M/M, Modern, Multi, POV First Person, Past Rape/Non-con, Prostitution, Psychological Trauma, Random & Short, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Roleplay, Roleplaying Character, Short, Suicidal Thoughts, bad decision making, possibly insulting to christians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 08:43:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReticentGrace/pseuds/ReticentGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>((Short Internal Monologue)) A fallen angel with nothing left but desperation and loneliness mourns his circumstances, and questions the reasons he still exists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irreparable

**Author's Note:**

> Original Roleplaying Character of mine here- one that I've had for a very, very long time and who has been through many, many remakes. I missed him suddenly, so I thought I would give him a bit of space to breathe- and he gave a mile when I took an inch (as characters usually do). The reason he was cast from heaven, as far as I can remember, was that he found out his God's true weakness- something that could have dethroned him and given another being the power over Creation on earth and the Kingdom of Heaven. This notably pissed off the Christian God (who I never thought of as a very nice fellow), and he threw the poor child away on Earth. Being that Azzie was rather 'new'...this led to a slew of horrible, demeaning decisions and circumstances that he ended up feeling completely trapped by, thus leaving him as he is here.
> 
> The poor thing really needs a hug and a knight in shining armor...but mostly hugs. Gentle, Consensual Hugs. ;(

I don't know why I do this to myself- I'm not really sure I ever knew why I did. Maybe I think that this is it- this is all I'm worth in the end. A pretty body with a pretty face; one of “God's Pure Children”...reduced to a series of holes to fuck. A sack of skin to scratch and bruise and bite...pretty, empty eyes to cry pretty, empty tears when you leave me...when I'm picking your money off the floor after you threw it at my chest.

I'm a broken vending machine to most of them, so you're no different. I'm a thing- an object that dispenses a service that they're ashamed of. Little Children stealing candy while they're at school...a shameful delicacy that you can't be moved to admit that you like- so you consume it quickly. Stuff it down, feel the rush...ball it up and throw away what's left before retreating like you're afraid you'll be caught. 

If I think about it for too long, my heart aches. Something clenches inside of me, and the broken pieces of my former life, still trying to shine under so much dust and trash...their sharp, broken edges prick at me inside and I hurt. I agonize...and when the tears come they're a familiar, unwelcome guest; they're the only warm thing in this dingy hotel room, and the suddenness of the hot trails makes me drop my 'fee'...

…makes me sit in the light of a single swinging bulb and shiver and cry, when I realize that I can't remember if my halo had been brighter than that lightbulb...when I can't remember what it felt like to be warm, or pure, or bright. I doubt I could move if I wanted to- you were rough, no exception to the norm, and my legs feel weak and numb...my head is full of cotton, and my lungs lay wilted in my chest.

Quiet gasps in a quiet room. Soft sobs in the darkness. All I can hope for is that, someday, my pretty face won't be so pretty. Someday, maybe I'll be filled with enough darkness that it kills me...because I no longer want to live this way. God struck me down because I knew his secret...I struck myself down because I'm not sure that he was wrong to punish me, anymore. To cast me out- to feel me with an eternal ache; an emptiness I've found no way to fix. An incurable disease of loneliness that I tried every way to solve.

That I began getting paid to try and solve in others...but their arms don't fix the feeling, anymore, and their money buys me no happiness. It pays for a place I might hide- a home that doesn't feel like it...it pays for food I don't need to eat, books I can't bear to read...music I will not sing to, because the voice of Heaven doesn't belong on earth, and never will belong. 

I am alone. I am Fallen. Someday, I hope to simply fade, because I don't know what happens to angels and demons who die on earth...I don't know where we go, when we can't return to our homes. I want to go nowhere- I want to be nothing. I just want to become black...empty. The empty space I feel that I am. On nights like these, when no amount of alcohol and petty, intoxicating smoke could make me forget how worthless I've become.

A broken vending machine. Broken.  
I am Broken.  
And I'm not sure that I can be fixed.  
I don't believe that anything  
Can be fixed  
Anymore.


End file.
